Self Destruct
by LJPhilpy
Summary: MM/HG femslash, don't like the idea - your crazy - you don't have to read it. It's dark, I't dingy, It's a spiral into depression, but I promise there will be some good times too - many of them . May take some time to complete but keep with it.
1. Prologue

A/N: so I've possibly broken my wrist and finding it hard to type with one hand but this has been nagging at me to write so here it goes.

She has thought that life was turning out to be going in the right direction for the first time in her short life. How wrong she was, to even contemplate gaining the happiness that everyone else felt. This had been her first mistake. The second came in giving her heart away to the woman she had secretly harboured an ever growing need for. The third was to abandon those she could have relied on to pick her off the floor and help her to bed. Lying on the floor next to the bed that once was a sanctuary now her idea of hell she couldn't help but think of them as mistakes.

The 27 year old Hermione Granger was on the edge, the edge of reason, the edge of her life. Did she really have anything left to live for? Her life was in ruins and it all stemmed from the one thing in human nature one can not control, the absurd tendency to fall in love.

If you were to look at the young woman's current predicament you would find yourself believing the finger that, a week ago, was placed on the self-destruct button was slowly retreating. You would be mistaken. Looking at her young love from her place among the stars it was fairly obvious that, although the tears no longer fell the she was in more pain now than at anytime in the last 4 months, and she had been the cause of it all.

A/N: I know it's short, and I know it's depressing, but that's the mood I'm in at the moment. There is more coming explaining everything. I promise.


	2. A new begining

A/N: struggling on with the splinted wrist I thought I'd give you another short update.

10 years previous.

It was over. The pain and suffering had ended. Those who had survived were basking in the glory of defeating "you-know-who". Life could get back to normal. That was a thought, "normal".

Those who had survived the battle were celebrating and mourning in the great hall, but not Hermione. For the first time in 5 years she was more than content to shy away from everyone and get a good nights sleep. Or at least that was the plan. She was lying in the 1st year Gryffindor girls dormitory knowing that she would not be disturbed, allowing her mind to drift and ponder her place in the new world she had a major role in carving. But there was a flaw in this thinking, she could not think of a place where she would fit in, her age-old turmoil returning to her. In the muggle world she was too intelligent to fit in with her peers, and it continued as she started her wizard schooling. She was saved from her spiralling depression by befriending the two who had now become family to her and each other, yet she had an inkling that they would seclude themselves from her and from each other. The connection they had had been forged in the turmoil of the rise of the dark lord and now with nothing left to fight for, would they still be there for her? How could she fit into a "normal" world when she had never felt "normal".

She had secluded herself within the vacated dormitory after speaking with Dumbledore's portrait and Harry and Ron's retreat to the great hall. That had been 4 hours ago and sleep was still eluding her. She had heard many people ascending the stairs to the upper levels where many of those who had stayed to fight were undoubtedly returning to their rooms, accompanied by family and friends. So it wasn't surprising to hear another pair of feet start to climb. She however did not expect the door to the dormitory to open and a tall figure quickly enter and close it again. The figure stood in the sun lit room still facing the door for some time, before turning round slumping against it and sliding to the ground head in hands.

Hermione took a minute to register what she was witnessing. Minerva McGonagall the stoic and formidable witch had broken down in what she had assumed was an empty room. Hermione couldn't think of what to do. She knew the witch well enough to know she would not appreciate the intrusion on her privacy. She contemplated feigning sleep in order to preserve Minerva's dignity and she was about to do when she seen Minerva's shoulders begin to shudder.

Forgetting what the woman would think she slipped out of the bed and walked over to her. Without a word she dropped to the floor pulled the now openly sobbing woman into her arms. Minerva only looked up only to register the source of warmth and comfort now engulfing her shattered body before wrapping her own arms around the young with and burying her head into dust covered robes.

The two exhausted and emotionally shattered women held each other for most of the afternoon without saying a word about the presence of the other, the comfort that they drew from each other allowing Minerva to drift off into a dreamless sleep. As Hermione's back began to grow sore in its position against the doorframe she used her wand to levitate the peacefully resting woman into the nearest bed, and to her tired mind there was no hesitation in crawling in behind, wrapping her arms around her and succumbing to the rest she so desperately needed.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed.


	3. Madness

A/N: so wrist now in a cast and it's actually easier to type, woop. So in celebration yet another update for you lovely readers to enjoy.

It was a quarter to midnight when Minerva awoke unsure of the strange feeling resting against her back. Shifting slightly in order to ease the tingling in her arm she noticed this was not the only unusual thing, an arm was wrapped around her possessively, and she could feel breath against her neck. Remembering very little of what had happened after the battle she reluctantly turned round to look at her protector.

She could not have been more shocked at the identity of the person holding her. The shock did not come from the fact that the person was so young, that they were female or that she could not remember how she had reached the situation, but at the fact that it felt the most natural of places she had ever been. Looking at the relaxed sleeping form of Hermione she couldn't stop the smile that tugged at her lips. This sleeping beauty had obviously held her through the night easing the pain of the previous years. She could get used to this.

Slowly raising her hand to the young woman's face she painstakingly slowly moved her bushy hair from her face to behind her ear. Hermione let out a soft sigh and tightened her arms around the older witch.

In a moment Minerva would in future put down to complete loss of sanity she lowered her head, eyes focused on the slightly parted lips of Hermione and tentatively touched hers to them, closing her eyes in bliss. Even though the touch was light and intended to be brief, the electric pulse that shot through Minerva caused a sharp intake of breath. Then the kiss was deepening, the pressure increasing and a tongue lightly running over her bottom lip. Minerva's eyes snapped open and she was looking into the dark brown pools of need of Hermione Granger.

A/N: I know it is again short but at least it's an update, right? There may be another this evening although most likely tomorrow.


	4. Aggression

A/N: and another chapter for those who are reading. Thanks for the reviews and subscribing to this dingy tale, hope I do the idea justice.

Hermione and her sleep addled mind awoke to the sensation of soft lips caressing her own. Pulling the cultrit closer to her she licked long the bottom lip of… wait she had fallen asleep with her arm around her Professor. Opening her eyes she seen the emerald eyes of Minerva McGonagall staring back at her.

In an instant the two witches were on opposite sides of the bed apologising profusely to each other. "Miss Granger, I have no idea what came over me, I am terribly sorry. I have no idea how I came to be in this bed."

"Professor, please it was all my fault. I…"

Minerva cut her off, "No Miss Granger, it is entirely my fault, now please excuse me there is much to be done in regards to recent events."

Without a glance back Minerva was out the room and heading towards her office.

Hermione stood stunned, unable to move and unable to vanquish the thoughts of the woman. How could she have been so stupid as to kiss her back? But then again why was she kissing her in the first place? The numerous questions now railing through her mind could not be answered without the woman currently running away as fast as possible.

Minerva pushed through the door to her office, headed straight for the fire whiskey, poured herself a generous amount and downed it in one swift gulp. What the hell had she been thinking? Yes she liked women, but to think of a former student like…. like… the thought couldn't even cross her mind. How could she have been so stupid? Hermione was a friend, and probable future colleague and she had gone and kissed her.

Gulping down the second glass she slumped into the chair behind the desk letting out a slow sigh.

"Minerva, dear, what has happened? Surely you should be jovial on such a great day?" The portrait of her dear friend had a tendency to pick up on her mood, however she wasn't hiding it today.

"Albus, I am over the moon about the vanquishing of Riddle. It is another matter that troubles me." She sighed heavily once again, pouring her third measure of whiskey.

"Do tell, it is not often that you drink with such vigour."

"I fear that I will tarnish your view of me if I do such a thing Albus." She lowered her head in shame. "I cannot take the judgment that would come."

"My dear friend, I have known you for most of your life, we all make mistakes and those mistakes can always be redeemed, forgotten and forgiven. You look as though you need to talk. Please tell this old man the cause of your pain."

"I acted on instinct, and I regret it very much. I may have alienated someone who I hold dear, a friend and someone who will undoubtedly never forgive the foolish actions of a greying old witch like myself." Another glass had been emptied and Minerva poured the fourth as the tears started to build in her eyes.

"Minerva I'm sure you are over exaggerating the nature of what has occurred? Miss Granger has a forgiving nature, and if you truly regret your actions she is most likely to forget the event ever occurred." The twinkle in his eye was enough to send Minerva crazy.

"You blithering old arse, you knew fine well what has happened and still you do not give me your straight answer. Well you want to know something?" She stood grabbing the remainder of the fire whiskey pouring the last drops into her glass, turning slowly, here eyes full of rage, and in a move worthy of her animagus form threw the bottle as hard as she could against his portrait. "You can take your idealized pansy notion of love and shove it up your arse." Heading to her private rooms and slamming to door hard enough to shake the portraits hanging around the slightly slashed portrait of Dumbledore.

"If you could see what I can my dear," Albus sighed softly.


	5. Thoughts of the Sin

A/N: just because my dissertation writing keeps brining more chapters into my head, here is another one for you. enjoy :OD.

Breakfast was a subdued affair the next morning, the extent of the previous days accomplishment finally sinking in. No more fear, no more hiding, no more prejudice… prejudice, that was a notion that Hermione was failing to see past.

She hadn't slept at all since Minerva's retreat at midnight, the thought trailing through her head refusing to leave. Was Minerva gay? Why had she kissed her? And more to the point why had she enjoyed it? A memory kept replying in her head, one that she had repressed for many years.

She had been 7 at the time and her best friend Vikki had been staying over for the night. It was about 2 in the morning and they had been playing a game. In the game Hermione was the daddy and Vikki was the mummy. They had her teddy bears playing the part of their children. The "kids" were in bed and Hermione had sat down and asked Vikki if she wanted to kiss her. Like grown ups do. They had kissed, many times that night, telling each other that they loved each other and they would make a happy family. That wasn't the problem. The problem came when her mother found out. She had shouted herself horse, for hours it went on and then dragged her to church, to her very first confession. She had spent the next 10 years of her life regretting the game and pain it had brought to her parents. But now her mind had brought back the incident. She had had her first crush on her best friend Vikki, and had tricked her into kissing her, just to see what it was all about.

She couldn't think of things like that, it was wrong to kiss girls, it was the way she had been taught and the way it will be. Even though the thought of Minerva's lips on her own would never be something she would forget she knew that for the sake of her integrity, her family it is something she could never do again.

Harry shook her from her thoughts as he sat opposite her, placing his plate on the table. "Not hungry either?" he gestured towards her full plate.

"No. I didn't sleep much last night." She rested her head in one hand slowly pushing a sausage around her plate with the fork held in the other.

"I thought you went to bed after we left Dumbledore?"

"I did. Then stuff happened and… I really don't want to talk about it. How is everyone coping?"

"Molly has invited us to stay for a week. Think she wants a bit of normalcy. George hasn't spoken to anyone. Ginny is trying to cheer him up but she's in as much pain as the rest of them." He paused. "Although Ron will not shut up about you kissing him." Hermione raised her head to look at Harry. He had a smirk plastered firmly on his face. Her eyes glazed and she was no longer focused on Harry but on the emeralds that belonged to none other than Minerva, her eyes wide at the last of Harry's words.

It was at that point that Hermione realized what had happened between the two of them meant a great deal to the older witch. The hurt that shone in Minerva's eyes was something close to heart breaking.

Minerva broke the eye contact not able to bear what the young witch might say. She had to get out of there and fast. Tears had started to build at the corners of her eyes.

Harry noticed that Hermione was looking passed him. Not quite able to distinguish the look on her face, he turned to see who had grasped her attention. But all he could see was the tale end of someone's robes as the swished round the door.


	6. Let Down

A/N: I swear the good times are on the way for thoes of you who are wishing them. There is going to be another update today. maybe for this maybe for Timeless Atraction, we shall see. Enjoy :D

The funeral had been a celebration. George had been given free rein to plan it and could not have honoured his twin any better. Joke laden the eulogy, pranks on the minister and who could forget the spectacular firework display as the coffin had been lowered into the ground. The Weasley's had sat in the front row, laughing, crying and remembering the life of the fun loving young man. Harry and Hermione sat along side them joying in the rejoicing.

A week had passed since the battle and the faithful night that Hermione had been consumed with since. Feeling incredibly selfish at her preoccupation during the time of sorrow did not make for a good mental state. It had been a week of funerals, most of which she had attended. She could not truthfully say she had attended for selfless reasons. She had attended in order to see the newly instated headmistress of Hogwarts. The emotion she had seen a glimpse of completely hidden by the stoic woman. The families of most had decided to take up the offer of having their loved ones buried on the grounds of the great school. A small patch of the island of the lake had been prepared and given to those who would be remembered.

Fred was the last of those who died in battle to be laid to rest. There was undoubtedly going to more funerals to attend in the coming months, for those who were currently in St Mungo's, and were not expected to survive.

The fireworks had finished little over an hour ago and those who had attended were milling around the remnants of the Gryffindor common room, glasses in hand sharing stories of the fallen heroes. Hermione was stood in the corner, fire whisky in hand contemplating the last week.

The first funeral had been the worst she sat with the rest of the order member in attendance. She hadn't batted an eyelid when Ron's hand had rested on top of hers and squeezed gently as her tears started to fall. She hadn't noticed the look of torture that had plaid across Minerva's face as she witnessed the gesture.

Hermione had continued through the week in a numb state and only today had realised what Ron's constant reassuring touch could be perceived by others. It was at that point she noticed the touch once more and looked round to see Ron standing next to her trying to catch her attention.

"Ermm… 'Mione I know this is probably the wrong time to bring this up." He dropped her hand and looked rather interested in his shoes. "Would you maybe like to.. you know….. maybe at some point like to… go for dinner or something… like on a date type of thing?"

Hermione looked at him in total shock. He was right this really wasn't the time for this sort of thing, and she did feel rather guilty at allowing him to comfort her through this week. Particularly with what she was about to say, she grasped both of his hands in hers, " Ron. I know you mean well…. But this has been a hard week for all of us, Christ it's been a hard few years for all of us. The kiss was something that just happened in the heat of the moment. I love you as a friend and that's all it will ever be. There has been so much happening lately that I'm not sure this is even what you want, but I'm sure it's not what I want."

He withdrew his hand from her grasp as the tears stared to build behind his eyes. "Well if you need time then we can wait. You'll see that are meant for each other."

"No Ron. People think we are meant for each other but I can assure you I can never love you the way you deserve. I don't want to live my life the way others expect me to… any more." With that she turned and ascended the stairs to the dorm rooms leaving a heart broken Ron slumped on a chair with a small tabby curled underneath.


End file.
